Ray of hope
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: post 6.3- Holding Lisbon's hand is reassurance enough that she is still alive and well, with him, and she is hope. Because he can dream of saying those same words, and that she will say them back. To him. Her right man at the wrong time.-EDITED With a couple of sentences added


Jane joined Lisbon as Rigsby and his new bride were already leaving; Teresa was standing on the sidewalk, looking not at the happy couple, but staring with a faraway look at the small bouquet of flowers in her hands. It was small and simple, something quickly done, yet another indication of the couple's sudden decision to get married on the spot.

He didn't know if it was the right thing, to talk with her. He knew what kind of thoughts she was entertaining-after all, they had been, partly, his owns for a long time. Teresa was thinking about past and future, missing opportunities, long lost loves, and loves never truly lived. Maybe even impossible, in some way.

He was thinking about that too. He was thinking about Angela, his own wedding, and yes-about Teresa too. A love they had never consumed-not even admitted, in any way.

But… as much as he didn't want to interfere with her musings, as much as he didn't want to give her false hopes, he found that he couldn't stay at the back any longer. There were few things he needed to say- just to hear her voice, just to… to make her a little happier. He had seen Teresa being angry, happy, delighted, and scared… lately, that had been all she had felt, the uncanny fear given by the knowledge that Red John was looking her, that he was planning of taking her to deliver not a mask of blood but her body. And he couldn't have that. Looking at Rigsby and Van Pelt getting married had already made him sad, he couldn't deal with a depressed Lisbon too.

"Ehy" he simply said. Ehy was good. Completely non descriptive. Neutral. She wasn't going to see anything weird in that.

"You Okay?" she said, instead, the bouquet in one hand, her right on his shoulder, squeezing the fabric of his dress jacket. He felt like sighing. He didn't know if Teresa was getting good at reading him, if he was starting to get old and lose his ability to mask his real feelings, or maybe… well, she was Teresa Lisbon, and she had been indeed nicknamed Saint Teresa. She practically lived to take care and comfort people. That was probably why she was being so nice and understanding, lately.

"Yeah, well…" he chuckled, and his eyes told her everything she needed to know. Jane decided he didn't have to lie, for once. After all, Teresa probably understood - and accepted- why he felt that way about weddings. "You?"

"I hope Annie will take her example" she simply answered, still playing with the white flowers- simple roses. It didn't need a genius to understand she wasn't changing the topic of conversation; Lisbon's niece was still hell-bent on becoming a cop, and one of the reasons Teresa had begged her not to was because of her biggest regret- having sacrificed a family, maybe even children, on the altar of work. "I mean… I get what Rigsby said. And… well, they are still so young. I am just glad."

"C'mon Lisbon, you are not that old…" he told her, trying to infuse humor to the statement. But he really couldn't. He hated to see her so sad and depressed, but he didn't know what to say to make it better. "I mean, what should I say? I am older than you!" he laughed a tiny bit, but he could see the tears. Teresa was trying to mask them as laughing tears, but he knew her better than that. She was still sad, and getting more by the minute.

"Teresa…" he said, sweetly. He wanted to comfort her. He really did. She deserved it, and in some way, he did too. After all, in the last ten years since they had met, hadn't Teresa sacrificed everything, her private life, her career, for him? He didn't want to think that it was only his fault. It wasn't right. He had never asked her to make such things.

But she simply shook her head. "No, really. I told Greg that I am all right. I am happy, and in a good place. And I am. Only…." She didn't end the sentence. He guessed she didn't need to. He imagined her line of thoughts. After all, when, the previous year, she had met Greg, Red John hadn't taken her. Now things were a little bit more difficult, as she had been forced to face the matter of her own mortality.

"Well… there is always adoption. " he wondered if bringing up the topic of fostering, but given her past, he guessed it wasn't such a great choice. So many years, and he still didn't know how Teresa felt about the system.

Yet again Teresa shook her head- in defeat or acceptance, he wasn't sure. He could understand that she didn't want risking leaving a child on its own, was something to happen to her, and also, he knew that with so many families ready to adopt, a single parent, a cop in her forties, wasn't the first choice.

"No, I am okay, really. I have accepted it. Right man, wrong moment, and mistakes and messes getting in the way. " AKA a certain serial killer they both knew too well. His heart clenched painfully at the realization that this incredible woman was… he knew that Teresa was in love with him. But she had just… she was telling him that she had always believed him to be her one. And all he had done was using her, abusing her trust, breaking her heart again and again and again.

She didn't deserve it. Not at all.

Smiling a little, he took hold of her hand, and squeezed it, hoping that it would make her understand- that like Rigsby and Grace had been right for each other at the wrong moment and lost their chance, the same could happen to the two of them, too. It was what he hoped for, and he had to believe that somewhere in her heart she wanted the same as well.

She looked at her, and she blushed, squeezing his hand in return, and when she looked away she bit her lips, guilty as charged. And in his mind, he could see the magnificent future thst could await the both of them, if they played their cards carefully and had still a little patience. Soon Red John would be done and dealt with, and then... then, they were going to have all the time in the universe.

_I, Patrick, take you, Teresa, to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day on forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death does us part. By the power vested in me, by a mail-ordered ministry, I now pronounce us husband and wife. _

It was just a silly dream, she hadn't heard the words, she didn't know how he really felt, and he guessed that he also couldn't wed himself, but he didn't care about any of this right now. Lisbon's warm hand in his own was reassurance enough- that she was still there- and was a ray of hope. Because maybe, just maybe, she felt the same. And maybe, just maybe, one day, when everything was over…

She would allow him to say those words aloud, in front of their families and friends. And this time, for real.


End file.
